


A Drink with the Black Dragon Boys

by Quanchy



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Bars and Pubs, F/M, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26869585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quanchy/pseuds/Quanchy
Summary: You'd be lying if you said you enjoyed your job as the Black Dragon Fight Club's bartender and dancer, luckily for you however, some of the regulars are here to make things a little less miserable.Based on someheadcanonsI was requested to write a while back
Relationships: Erron Black/Reader, Kabal (Mortal Kombat)/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Jägerbomb (Kabal)

**Author's Note:**

> Some old drabbles from my tumblr @Outworldgay I decided revise and move over here. There's no continuity between chapters, it's just the same prompt with different characters.

Kabal never exactly enjoyed the time he spent at the Black Dragon bar, but being the only place to get a cheap buzz that would get his mind off of whatever mentally taxing missions Kano had him doing, he had little elsewhere to go. He sat at the far end of the counter, purposely away from the crowd. Put off by the man’s stand offish demeanor your co-workers left you to take care of him. To be honest you were a bit relieved however, as tending to him meant stepping away from the more crowded part of the bar, so maybe it was worth dealing with one grumpy patron. 

“Something that’ll knock me out enough to forget Kano entirely as a human being” he was quick to answer when you asked for his order. Normally customers with attitude and misplaced anger annoyed you, but considering you shared the sentiment you were actually a bit amused.

"Sorry we’re all out of bleach." You retorted with a smirk. Kabal exhaled sharply at your unexpected wit, a small smile forming on his face. 

“So I take it Kano’s got you busting your ass for him too?” If only he knew, you thought to yourself. The two of you were quick to use your disdain for Kano as a diving board to jump into casual conversation, going back and forth talking about your aspirations and everything you could be doing instead of working here. You offhandedly mentioned you’d rather have his mercenary job than do what he’s having you do now, which Kabal raised an eyebrow to. The two of you jibed for a while, until a rude customer snapped his fingers for your attention. You rolled your eyes and sighed, before turning to tend to him, until Kabal stopped you to request a Jägerbomb.

“I thought you wanted to be knocked out?” You questioned his taste with a raised eyebrow.

“Eh, I found a reason to stay up a little later.” You savored the small smirk he flashed you, knowing full well your co-workers would never believe you if you told them you got Kabal of all people to smile, twice even. You turned away from him to get to your other patron, hoping he didn’t catch the goofy grin he put on your face. Much to your surprise, Kabal did put his money where his mouth was and ended up staying with you all night until closing, patiently waiting for every small moment of downtime you had between orders to talk and laugh with you. It became a routine for him to visit the bar to talk to you every night.

He’s not the heaviest drinker, so one day when he came around and ordered 2 drinks at the same time you questioned it, to which he confidently replied that it’s actually for you. You smiled sheepishly at the act of kindness, a rarity among the Black Dragon clientele. You refused at first, telling him you couldn't get caught drinking on the job. Kabal merely laughed off your concern, assuring you that he’d have your back, and that he’s not afraid of Kano. This also became a part of his routine with you.

To Kano!” he jokingly toasted before you both took a swig. You shared a laugh as Kabal’s face soured at the bitter taste. He went quiet for a moment before eyeing you up and smiling.

“I guess I do have to thank the bastard for something,” He gestured his glass at you. “Wouldn’t have met you if he didn’t treat us like shit.” You clinked glasses, unabashedly smiling ear to ear at his comment.

The next night Kabal was left more than a bit disappointed to find you not at the bar. Having ordered the second drink anyway, He stayed in hopes you’d maybe pop in sometime later. He was left waiting for much longer than he thought he'd be. When y did arrive however, Kabal was shocked to find you not behind the counter, but center stage on the catwalk. He watched, mouth agape as you sauntered around in skimpy attire that left little to the imagination. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t aroused, but he knew you weren’t doing this because you wanted to, which only frustrated him. He found his way backstage, hoping to catch you before you needed to go back for an encore.

“So that’s what your legs look like.” He joked, bringing attention to the lack of a bar counter dividing the two of you. You jumped in surprise, not expecting to see him backstage. How did he even sneak by? You composed yourself and laughed sheepishly at his comment, forcing a smile onto your face. Noticing your discomfort, Kabal took off his jacket to drape over your exposed body. He offered to take you home, to which you refused on account of needing to finish the show.

“Is the show really worth being this miserable?” His hands lingered on your shoulders where he draped his jacket. You can feel the warmth of his firm hands even through the fabric. They slid a bit down your arms until they reach your waist. You reveled in the small bit of warmth he offered, both literally and figuratively. 

“Besides,” he continued as he pulled you closer to him to whisper into your year. “I bet it’d feel real nice to piss off the boss man just this once.” He placed a gentle kiss on your earlobe, which was all the convincing you needed to sneak out the back entrance with him.

Your heart raced as the cool air of the outside stung your exposed skin. Kabal rubbed your shoulders firmly in an attempt to give you a bit of heat. You hopped onto his back as he instructed, heading his warning to hang on tight. You were suddenly reaching unimaginable speeds as you were carried away from the place that made life hell for you. Taken back by the sudden burst of energy, you could only assume you'd soon find out what else that metabolism was good for.


	2. Whiskey on the Rocks (Erron Black)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaw

Erron Black has lived on this Earth long enough to be very intuitive, so he knows an unfilled soul when he sees one. You felt his eyes on you, watching you walks circles around the bar, but thought little of it. Besides, he wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar face on account of his less than healthy drinking habits. He had been spending a lot of time off to the side regarding you before deciding to approach. You kept your eyes on the glass you were cleaning as he spoke.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a shithole like this?” You exhaled sharply from your nose at his bluntness. You thought to ignore him, but it wasn’t often a patron entertained you with conversation. You expressed that this wasn’t your first choice in gigs to which he gave a knowing nod.

“It’s no one’s first choice, sweetheart” He said as he swished his whiskey around in his glass. You frowned, his frank negativity bringing your already bad mood even lower. You went back to cleaning your glass in hopes he'd take the hint and leave you be. He looked over at you with a twinge of guilt as he noticed how much rougher you were cleaning the glasses. Realizing all he's done is sour an already sour person, he stared into his glass for a moment before making an attempt to change the mood of the conversation.

“I'm sorry I- I didn't mean to kick you while your down." Erron began, and for the first time his typical suave demeanor was no where too be found. 

"It's just that I seen you around, I know you hate it here and yet you're always doing the most for the scumbags around here" Erron rubbed the back of his neck as he stumbled over his words.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, is that you’re too sweet to be stuck behind this bar, you know that?” Normally the men who tried to butter you up fail at getting any positive reaction from you, but something about how quick he was to try and soften the blow of his previous words had your interest peaked. He gave you a weak but comforting smile, the kind of smile that made you want to open up to him and tell him all of your woes, which was exactly what you'd spend the next few nights doing. He didn’t talk much, but the way he looked at you so intensely as you spoke told you he’s still engaged with you; enamored even.

The next few nights play out as such. He visited the bar, and sat in his usual stool for most of the night as you ran back and forth making drinks, doing little to hide how absolutely miserable the job made you. Once you had some down time to go over to where Erron is sitting, your demeanor immediately changed. You'd perk up, ready to talk to him about how abysmal your job was. He watched your lips, hanging on to even the most mundane comments about your day. As the days passed by you could have sworn Erron was leaning onto the counter more and more, his hands resting further and further along it.

It wasn’t until one day you tried to leave to take another order that you noticed his hand over yours, resting on the bar. You smiled sheepishly, not quite sure if it was an intentional touch or not. He pulled away, allowing you to continue your work. He became braver as the days go by, seeing how far you’d allow him to go physically, from his fingers touching yours when you handed him a drink, to cheekier gestures, like gently tugging the strings on the back of your apron to untie it. You welcomed the baby steps into your comfort zone, admiring the patience he must have to play this game with you. One night as you are closing up the bar, Erron took a leap of faith and as he said his goodbyes, he gently lifted your hand to his mouth, as if to give you room to pull away or refuse, to leave a gentle peck on top of it. You let him get away with it, internally melting at the cliche gesture.

The next day he sat in his same spot at the bar, only to find you were nowhere to be found. It’s unlike you to be late for a shift, but Erron waited patiently regardless. Before he could ask the other bartender about your whereabouts, Kano’s voice came over the speakers, announcing tonight’s peep show. Erron rolled his eyes, never one for such flashy sexual gratuity. He began to rise from his stool when he suddenly recognized one of the scantily clad women on stage. He nearly spat out his drink at the sight of you. For the first time, he actually seemed interested in these shows that he would normally deem trashy.

As soon as you got backstage you beelined it to your dressing room, careful to avoid any of the less trustworthy men who work backstage. As you open the door you feel a pair of hands grab at your waist. Being used to entitled men wanting your time after a show, you nearly throttle the man behind you before recognizing it’s Erron. He quickly lifted his arms from you and held them up in surrender. You froze before your fist managed to collide with his gut. You untensed yourself as he sighed in relief, his arms still up in the air. You both remained frozen for a minute, realizing this is the first time there hasn’t been a physical barrier in between the two of you. You are quick to shrink yourself as you suddenly feel very exposed.

“Hey now, no need to hide from me.” Erron spoke softly as he slowly lowered his arms to return them back to your hips. He never took his eyes off of yours, as if gauging your reaction to make sure his touch was welcomed. You don’t move, allowing him to close the space between you. Now flush against him, you’re forced to crane your neck a bit to keep the eye contact. With one hand pressed against your dressing room door, and the other attempting to jimmy the knob, you struggle to open the door behind you to give yourselves a more private setting. Erron took note and turned the knob himself, pressing you into the door to push it open. Once on the other side, Erron immediately went for your neck, giving it slow kisses as he pushed your body against the door once more, this time to close it shut.


End file.
